


Celebrate

by OzQueen



Series: CP 100 situations [6]
Category: Captain Planet and the Planeteers
Genre: 100 situations, Celebrations, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, F/M, One Shot, Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-15
Updated: 2010-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:37:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/pseuds/OzQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a rare and important win, Plunder makes a move to claim his prize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Celebrate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plunderer01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plunderer01/gifts).



> Considering this is Plunder and Blight, and a huge amount of smut, this has actually got a few fluffy moments in it.

  


  


xXx

The top floor of the hotel was dedicated to a series of restaurants, bars and rooftop gardens. The people massing through the various rooms were all dressed in finery that oozed evidence of money.

Looten Plunder was no exception to this rule. He stood, in a dark suit and crisp shirt, by the glass barrier that ran along the edge of the roof, leaning against it casually with his back to the city and watching the people with him on the rooftop. There was a drink in his hand; an Old Fashioned, and the ice was slowly melting in the warm night air.

Hotel staff in white jackets wove their way easily through the guests, trays of drinks in their hands as they took and delivered orders. Plunder watched them, and he watched the people they were serving.

Snobs of the highest calibre.

Plunder sipped his drink and let his eyes roam the crowd. It was a shifting sea of backless dresses, diamonds and dark suits. The lighting was dim and the air was warm, the entire rooftop open to the city. The view behind him was spectacular, but Plunder found the people far more fascinating.

He watched them all – talking, laughing, drinking. Dozens of little meetings and celebrations and stories all swirling in the air around him.

He glanced at his watch and sipped at his drink again, searching the crowd by the door for a particular face.

When she arrived, he stood up straight, and a slight wave of dizziness came over him. He blamed it on the drink – though later, when he looked back on that moment, he would wonder if that was the real reason for his palpitations.

She was, as he had predicted she would be, dressed in pink. The dress fell to the floor, but it hugged her body smoothly, the silken drapes clinging to her hips and her breasts, proudly showing the hourglass silhouette of her figure. She stepped forward, scanning the crowd, and he watched the way her thighs moved beneath her dress. He had no doubt her thighs could kill a man, and the thought sent hot blood racing to every last inch of his body.

He cleared his throat softly, drawing in a deep breath to calm himself, and held his drink up. She noticed him and walked towards him, winding her way through the other glittering dresses and dark suits.

"You got my message, then?"

"Obviously." Blight ran her eyes over him. "I didn't know you were in town."

"I wasn't, until a few hours ago." He felt a smirk creep across his face and he didn't bother hiding it. "I've been busy."

A waiter passed with an empty tray. "Another drink, Mr. Plunder?"

"Another of these," Plunder answered, draining the rest of his drink in one swallow. "And a Manhattan for my little friend, here."

"How many of those have you had, Plunder?" Blight asked, tugging at the fingers of her left glove and sliding it off her arm. The right one soon followed, and she crumpled them carelessly into her clutch.

"Not as many as you're accusing me of," he answered. She'd leaned her arm on the nearby barrier and he was captivated by the smooth skin of her forearm and the slender curve of her wrist. He didn't see her bare skin very often.

"Look at these idiots," Blight was saying in disgust, gazing around the rooftop. "These are the sort of people I think about when I'm testing explosives. Pathetic ants."

He watched her in amusement. "Why do they bother you? I can think of a few other people I'd rather have come to harm, first."

She snorted. "Yeah. Teenagers."

He chuckled and leaned his arm against the barrier, close to hers. He let his index finger straighten out and stroke against the smooth, thin skin on the underside of her wrist.

She looked at him in surprise. "Are you drunk?"

"Yes," he answered, letting his thumb graze the pad of her hand. "I'm celebrating."

"I gathered," Blight answered, her eyes sweeping the crowded rooftop. "These aren't all friends of yours, are they? I still stand by my earlier statement of wanting to blow them all up."

"I don't know them," he murmured, his eyes drawn to the draping neckline of her dress.

She noticed, and she turned away a little, resting her back against the edge of the barrier so he was gazing at her profile. Her hair hid the side of her face, but he wasn't daring enough, drunk enough or stupid enough to reach over and tuck it back behind her ear.

"What are you celebrating?" she asked after a moment.

He let his fingers glide over the skin of her wrist slowly, his hand making its way slowly up her arm. "The Planeteers failed today," he said after a moment. He felt pride and smug happiness welling up inside him again and he chuckled. "They tried to stop me and they couldn't. I won."

She turned back to him and stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"I _won,_ " he murmured, leaning closer. His hand slid up to her elbow and his thumb stroked the outside of her upper arm. "They had to leave. They had to concede that what I was doing wasn't illegal."

A smile crept across her face. "Oh, I wish I could have seen that," she breathed.

He chuckled and leaned closer, feeling daring and happy and rather tipsy. "I'll tell you all about it in greater detail later."

Their drinks arrived, and Blight took hers into her hand without taking her eyes off Plunder. "Why not now?" she asked.

Plunder tucked a folded bill into the pocket of the waiter. "I don't want her to see the bottom of her glass," he said, nodding his head towards Blight.

"Of course not, sir."

Blight sipped her Manhattan and leaned against the barrier again. The breeze stirred her hair. "So you're celebrating a win over the Planeteers. Can't say I blame you. The opportunity's never come up before." She tilted her head at him. "And yet you don't want to talk about it?"

"I do," he answered, his fingers cruising over her arm again. "We've got all night."

She gazed back at him coolly and sipped her drink again. "Assuming I stay."

He smirked. "You have somewhere you need to be? Somewhere better?"

"Haven't decided yet." She sucked the maraschino cherry into her mouth and pressed her teeth into it. "Convince me."

He grinned and ran his hand along her arm again, stepping closer to her. "You'll stay," he said confidently.

"Why?" she asked, tilting her head again. "Because you're a winner? Because you have money? I have money too, Looten. It'll take more than drinks and a nice hotel to convince me to stay. I need a story." She smirked at him and fluttered her lashes. "Go."

He sighed and looked down at her with slight irritation. "There's really not much to say," he said. "They came in and tried to stop me logging a forest, but everything I was doing was perfectly legal. They tried hard and they failed. The little one cried."

Blight laughed. "Maybe we should start obeying the law a little more often, if this is what it can result in."

Plunder raised his eyebrow and shrugged, taking a heavy gulp from his glass. "It's often more profitable to ignore the law."

"Unless you have to bribe your way out," Blight answered, tipping her own glass up and draining it. "Get me another drink. I need to catch up to you."

The waiter was already on his way over. He took Blight's empty glass and quickly promised her a refreshment was on the way. Plunder waved him away, his glass still half full.

"So it was no grand plan, then?" Blight asked, turning back to Plunder. "Just the law?"

He scowled. "I still won."

"You did," she said comfortingly, patting his arm. "I didn't mean to make it sound like a non-achievement."

He sighed, no longer feeling annoyed. He sipped his drink and ran his eyes over the crowd. "Where'd you get your dress?"

"Do you like it?" She tilted her hips slightly, watching him with a smirk. "I don't think I've ever been so dressed up in front of you." She stepped away from him slightly and dug around in her clutch. "Why'd you invite me, anyway?"

He watched her light a Black & Mild and blow a stream of blue smoke into the air.

"Miss, this is a no-smoking zone," the waiter said, holding her drink out.

Blight took it and gazed at him coolly, taking another drag. The waiter ducked his head, looking flushed, before he hurried away again.

Plunder ran his hand up her arm again, right up to her shoulder, and hooked his finger under the strap of her dress. "It's a nice dress," he murmured.

She blew sweet-smelling smoke into his face. "The wrapping is only as nice as the gift," she answered. "This dress wouldn't look half as good on you."

"We'll take your word for it," he answered, draining his glass. Ice clinked back against the bottom as he set it down.

"Why'd you invite me here, Looten?" Blight asked again, eyeing him over the top of her new Manhattan. "You have enough money to get any woman you want." She nodded towards the crowd. "There are obviously a few who are trying to get your attention."

"You'd appreciate the reason behind the celebration," he answered, tracing his fingers over her shoulder. "I don't have to be someone else, with you here."

"Because I know all your dirty little secrets?" she asked in amusement.

"Something like that," he answered. "We have similar interests."

"I suppose," she conceded, leaning against the glass barrier and gazing out over the city. "Though there must be a few others who share your interests, as well."

He ran his eyes over the curve of her back and her hips as she leaned forward against the railing, her arms resting against the top. Her dress hugged every curve and he found himself looking for evidence that she was wearing something underneath.

"I wanted you," he said after a moment.

She stood straight again, beside him. "How am I supposed to interpret that?"

"Any way you want," he answered. He traced the tip of his finger up her spine, revelling in the smooth warmth of her skin.

"You're making it pretty obvious," she said in amusement. "Let me finish my drink."

"Then what?" he asked.

She drained her glass and let the cherry roll into her mouth. "Isn't it your night?" she asked lightly. "How would you like to celebrate?" She flicked her half-burned cigarillo over the edge of the building.

He flattened his palm and roamed it down until it rested just below the small of her back. "I thought it was obvious."

Blight swallowed the cherry and drew in a quivery breath. "I wasn't sure if you were being serious or not."

"Because I joke around so often?" he asked quietly, raising his eyebrow and pulling her forwards. Her hips nudged against him.

"No," she answered softly. Her right eye was hidden behind her hair, but the left one was wide and blue. "You're always so full of shit, though."

He chuckled and kissed her, prodding her mouth open with his tongue. Her mouth tasted of smoke and bourbon. He felt her shiver, and when she broke the kiss he was filled with a smug sort of satisfaction, rather than any sort of disappointment, considering she had pulled away.

She glanced over his shoulder at the other people milling about under the city lights.

"Come to my room," he said pinning her gently between the railing and his body.

She swallowed, looking uncomfortable. "I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"I'm the biggest winner you know," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear. "I can give you everything."

"Everything?" she asked, tilting her head away from his mouth. He followed, letting his breath hit her with every syllable.

"Money," he said. "Intelligence. Adventure." He ran his palm across her hip, closing his eyes as the silk warmed under his touch.

"Am I just one more frontier to conquer?" she asked. "I'm not interested in being just another achievement, Looten."

"It's not that," he murmured, rubbing his thumb against the thin fabric of her dress.

"I can have money, intelligence and adventure without you," she said. "I need you for nothing."

"That's what makes it so good," he breathed, seeking her mouth again.

"You're drunk," she murmured.

"I'm celebrating," he reminded her. He kissed her again, and this time she leaned into him rather than pulling away.

When the kiss broke, she slid past him, looking back over her shoulder to make sure he was following. They wove separately through the crowd to the elevator. A group of people was headed to the lobby, but Plunder hit the button for two floors down. He watched Blight out of the corner of his eye as she took a compact from her clutch and slicked another coat of lipstick on.

He wondered if her first coat was smudged around his mouth.

They stepped out of the elevator together and listened to it rumble downwards, carrying the cheerful crowd away from them. Blight looked at him expectantly.

"This way," he said, leading her along the corridor.

She followed him, and he listened to the swish and shift of the dress around her thighs as she walked.

He keyed his door open and stood back, motioning for her to go before him. She stepped past him and stood in the middle of his room, tossing her clutch onto one of the armchairs.

"Do you want another drink?" he asked. "Something to eat?"

"No." She kicked her shoes off and turned to face him. "What do you want?"

He stepped towards her and slid his arms around her waist. "I wish you had been there," he whispered, pressing his mouth against her shoulder. "I wish you had been there to see their faces."

She chuckled and stepped backwards, pulling him with her. "Me too," she breathed. "Were they angry?"

"Yes." He fell with her onto the sofa, grabbing the hem of her dress in his hands and pulling it up to her thighs so she could move her legs around him.

"They cried?"

"And yelled. And complained about how unfair it was."

She laughed and tilted her head back so he could move his mouth across the pale skin of her throat.

"I can do anything," he boasted quietly, flicking his tongue over her skin.

She sighed, half pleasure, half impatience. "Arrogance will end up costing you everything," she murmured.

"You seem to like it," he said, moving one hand beneath the hem of her dress and skating it slowly along her thigh.

"You were right, before," she answered, squirming against him. "I don't know anybody else like you."

He kissed her again, tasting her earlier Manhattan. "How drunk are you?" he asked quietly.

"Half as drunk as you," she answered, tugging at his jacket. "Hurry up, before I change my mind."

"No," he answered. "I don't want to hurry. Celebrations should never be hurried."

She gave a throaty chuckle that made his stomach flip.

He used his hand to brush her hair away from her face before he pressed his mouth gently against her scarred cheek. She turned her head immediately, hiding it from him.

"Don't."

"Why?"

"Because."

He turned her head slowly, taking her chin in his hand and encouraging her to rest her head back against the sofa cushions. He traced his fingers over the dark scar on her cheek, feeling the rough skin carefully.

"How did it happen?" he asked. He ran the backs of his fingers over it, tracing it slowly.

She shifted beneath him. "I made a mistake. It cost me half my face."

"You hide it, but you don't get rid of it."

She wriggled beneath him. "Stop it, Looten. Stop looking at it."

"I like it," he answered, brushing his lips against the scarred skin. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at her. She stared back at him. It was rare for him to see Blight the woman instead of Blight the scientist, but she was more present tonight than she had ever been. He liked it. There was something vulnerable and insecure about her. It was normal, and he liked knowing that despite all of her wild plans, raving tirades and daring experiments, she could be pinned beneath him like this with self-consciousness and doubt written all over her face. It touched him to see her worried – more so when he realised she was worried about his perception of her.

"I'm glad you came," he murmured, pressing another kiss against her mouth and rocking his hips against her slowly. He felt her relax beneath him again.

"Me too," she answered softly. She tugged at his jacket and he shrugged out of it and tossed it to the floor.

He kissed her again, tasting her mouth, and his hands slid right up to the thin undergarment hugging her hips. After a moment, he managed to rip it.

"Shit, Looten," Blight said, sounding annoyed. "I don't exactly have a change of clothes in that clutch purse, you know."

He grinned against her neck and let the ruined material fall to the floor. "I'll go out in the morning and buy you something nice."

"Who says I'll be here in the morning?" she asked, shifting her hips under him. Her dress slid further up her body.

"I told you," he murmured, "Celebrations aren't supposed to be hurried." He bit gently down on her shoulder, nudging the strap of her dress away. His hand ran along the inside of her thigh and listened to her breathing change as he moved his fingers against her.

"This seems an odd way to celebrate," she whispered breathlessly, letting her head loll to the side.

"This is all I want," he answered. He closed his eyes when one of her legs roped its way around his waist, pulling him closer. Her body was warm and soft beneath him and he could feel every twitch of every muscle as his fingers curled and twisted against her.

"Why now?" she asked. Her body twitched again and he felt her fingers clench into the back of his shirt.

He grinned and dragged the other strap of her dress down with his teeth. "You always knew it was on the cards. It was going to happen, eventually. You and I."

"It was?" she asked scornfully. She twitched again and her visible eye flew open. He repeated the movement and her mouth dropped open, her heavy gasp loud in the quiet room.

"It was," he murmured. "I don't know anyone else like you."

She was breathing heavily and her hips were moving slowly against him. She looked up at him and then smirked, gripping his shirt in her hands and ripping it open. Buttons flew in every direction.

"Payback," she muttered, pulling him closer, "for my underwear."

"Worth it," he answered smugly, shifting to throw the ruined shirt to the floor.

She kissed him then, more aggressively than she had before, her fingers gripping his hair and holding him to her. He could feel the firm pressure of her thighs against his waist and he felt a thrill rush through him as she squeezed him gently. He rocked his hips against hers and she broke the kiss and grinned knowingly. She rolled him over and he toppled off the sofa, landing hard on the floor with a cough.

She crawled on top of him, hitching her dress up again. Her hair was mussed around her face. She bent to kiss him again, hungrily this time. He wasn't sure what had given her confidence, but he liked it.

"Touch me again," she demanded.

He grinned and gripped her hips in his hands, pulling her down against him. "Take your dress off."

She reached to the zip along the side of her dress and impatiently slid it downwards before she lifted the silky material up over her head, throwing it aside.

He ran his hands over her skin. It was warm and pale and smooth. He had half-expected more scars, for some reason, and he wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed when she proved her body flawless. He ran his fingers over the narrow curve of her waist.

She grabbed his hand and directed it to where she wanted him to touch her, tilting her head back and grinding her body down against his.

He stopped only to kick out of his trousers. He attempted to roll Blight over, but she stopped him, pressing her hands onto his shoulders.

"Not this time," she breathed.

"It's my celebration," he answered in amusement. "Shouldn't I get to do what I want?"

She dug her fingers into his skin and he yelped. She smirked and shifted her body above him, lowering herself onto him slowly, her mouth open and her face flushed lightly pink.

The momentary pain caused by her fingernails was long-forgotten as he felt the wet warmth of her envelope him. He gave a shuddering sigh and let his body sink back onto the carpet. She moved against him slowly, keeping him pinned with her hands on his shoulders. He gripped her hips and matched her rhythm, which to him seemed achingly slow. When he moved a hand up to cup her breast, she rocked her hips a little faster, and he soon discovered that using his own blunt fingernails on her skin could prompt her into a frenzy.

He listened to her ragged breath as he ran his hand roughly over her back, his nails leaving red tracks on her pale flesh.

"Harder," she demanded breathlessly.

He thrust his hips up against her and ran his nails down her thighs, listening to the rhythm of her breathing, enjoying the way she bit back high-pitched whimpers. She kept her eyes closed and let her hair fall forward over her face, until he reached up and gripped the blonde locks in his hands, pulling them away from the scar on her face. He held her hair tightly in his fingers, restricting her movement and exposing what she longed to keep hidden. He thought she was angry about it, the way her body shifted faster against him, but it was a reaction he enjoyed. He closed his eyes, breathing heavily, and kept one hand twined tightly into her hair, the other racing thin red trails over her stomach and her breasts.

"Fuck," she breathed. "Fuck."

He felt her tighten around him before he was ready, and her body shuddered and crumpled on top of him. He rolled her over immediately, pressing her into the carpet and burying his face in her neck, thrusting slowly until he felt the finish wash over him, hot and fast. He bit her shoulder and tried to catch his breath, sweat prickling on his skin. The rhythm of her breathing was mismatched with his own and he closed his eyes and felt her moving beneath him, trying to catch her breath.

"I like your celebrations," she breathed, her voice hot against his skin. "I wish you won more often."

He smirked and looked down at her, feeling tired and breathless. "Maybe I will, now I know what the prize is."

xXx

  



End file.
